


Came from Afar

by nackledamia



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Thomas is not an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:20:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nackledamia/pseuds/nackledamia
Summary: Thomas Jefferson is a French model in America, participating in a fashion show. He has been assigned a bodyguard during his stay in America.James Madison didn’t want to be a bodyguard for some rich, arrogant French guy but he accepted the job hoping to see Lafayette, his long-time celebrity crush, backstage.Lafayette is Thomas Jefferson’s stage name.





	Came from Afar

“Mr Jefferson, this is your schedule for the day.” Thomas’ agent informed him as they buckled up for landing, “You’ll check in at your hotel suite in an hour. Afterwards, you have a meeting with the fashion designers and you’ll be able to choose who you’re going to wear on the catwalk. You’ll have a bit of shopping time until the evening when the fashion show begins.”

“Cut the shopping; I can buy whatever I want online,” Thomas told her, “See if you can arrange a meet-and-greet, yeah?”

She leaned back in her seat, turning towards him across their private jet.

“Mr Jefferson, in all my years working with various famous people, you’re seriously a nice person,” she informed him.

“What can I say, I’m a crowd-pleaser,” Thomas smiled, stretching in his seat, “and maybe I do enjoy the attention. Just a little bit.”

They shared a laugh, unbuckling their seatbelts and standing up as the jet landed.

**”Mr Jefferson, welcome to America. The time is 6am in America; 3pm in France. The weather is forecasted to be remain sunny during your week’s stay in America. Have a pleasant day; see you in a week.”**

“Thank you, Toby!” Thomas yelled at his personal pilot who popped his head out from the cockpit to give him a thumbs up.

It was a good day. The fashion show he was involved in was supposed to be the talk of the decade, featuring top designers and top models from around the globe. ‘Lafayette’ was a household name in France but Thomas had still been honoured to receive the invitation for this event. He was, after all, still comparatively new to the industry.

The moment he stepped out of his jet, airport staff busied themselves around him. His agent was instructing them where his luggages were supposed to go so Thomas simply stood there and looked pretty.

“Mr Jefferson, your complimentary cocktail, welcome to America,” one of the airport staff hurried up to him and said with a little bow. She had her eyes averted on the ground and Thomas could tell she was secretly a fan.

“Oh, thank you,” Thomas smiled as he received the cocktail.

“Can I take your fur coat for you?” she asked again, a little breathless this time. Thomas chuckled; he would never see his fur coat again.

“Nope it’s alright, but I’ll take a photo with you,” Thomas offered.

Her eyes lit up before they dimmed again.

“I- I can’t. I’m supposed to be professional about it. My apologies, Mr Jefferson,” she continued in a smaller voice, backing away slightly.

He loved his fans, he really did. He’d hate for one to have the chance to come so close and not have anything to remember it by.

Thomas put his arm around her shoulders (and felt her melt under his touch) and looked up with a snap of his fingers. The world paused around him.

“Let’s take a group photo, yeah?” Thomas offered and the airport staff gathered around him almost too eagerly.

As soon as the photo was taken, Thomas’ agent clapped her hands.

“Let’s get busy, people! Mr Jefferson has to be at the hotel in 50 minutes!” she yelled, and the world resumed its movement.

\------

Thomas was ushered by airport security to his waiting limousine through a secret backdoor reserved for celebrities. He was driven to the hotel and ushered by the airport security all the way up to his suite.

There was a man standing at the door of his suite. He was wearing an untucked grey polo tee and black jeans. Thomas had been around security long enough to see the hidden dagger strapped at his ankle and the gun holster at his belt.

His agent hiring a private bodyguard for him didn't surprise him. What surprised Thomas was how _young_ and _good looking_ this bodyguard was.

Thomas straightened his back.

“Ah, Mr Madison,” Thomas’ agent rushed forward, “it’s great to see you here. This is Mr Jefferson’s schedule for the day. You’ll accompany him to all his events as the American correspondent for the company he’s registered under.”

As Thomas approached, the bodyguard looked up at him.

His eyes were narrowed in focus and his jaw set in concentration but Thomas fell in love with his sharp gaze and his chiseled jawline. Thomas was totally not staring at his defined abs through the polo shirt that was too small for a hunk guy like him.

It wasn’t just about what’s on the outside. The man’s grip on the schedule he had been given was soft and careful- he was a gentle beast. Thomas could tell he had a lot on his mind, beyond his current job- he was an intelligent and knowledgeable thinker.

Thomas wondered for a moment why he would take on a bodyguard job when he was so clearly more suited as a professor or a scientist who would change the world.

He had already changed Thomas’ world.

“Mr Jefferson, I’m James Madison. I’ll be your personal bodyguard during your time in America,” James greeted.

His gruff voice was made of smooth velvet honey. Thomas was tongue-tied for a moment, staring up at him- _James_ , what a beautiful name for a beautiful man- until his agent cleared her throat.

“James, please, call me Thomas,” Thomas tried to cover his awe- was this how his fans felt?- with confidence and hated the way his words dripped with arrogance instead.

James’ lips quirked slightly. Thomas was a master at body language (as all models were) and understood that action to reflect distaste. He had given a bad first impression.

Thomas felt his heart sink to the ground.

“...I think I will stick to Mr Jefferson,” James told him firmly, professional as always, and Thomas’ heart withered away. “Allow me take your luggages into the suite.”

“Mr Jefferson, I’ve known you for almost 10 years now,” his agent leaned towards him as they watched James lift Thomas’ 3 luggages and carry them into the room effortlessly. Thomas almost sighed at the beautiful sight of James’ flexing muscles. “Your voice doesn’t take on that edge of false overconfidence unless you’re awestruck.”

“I don’t know how to act around people I like,” Thomas whispered back, a blush heating his cheeks.

“Mr Jefferson, you might want to quickly freshen up; we’re leaving in 15 minutes,” James came back around the corner, interrupting whatever his agent was about to say in response.

“Thank you, James,” Thomas replied and cringed at the way his words sounded more dismissive than appreciative.

James must have received the same vibe because he disappeared into the room.

“You’re going to have to work on your flirting skills,” Thomas’ agent whispered and backed out of the room, closing it and leaving Thomas alone with James.

Thomas walked into the room and turned the corner to find James checking his weapons; making sure his dagger was sharp and his gun loaded.

“S-So,” Thomas attempted to start a conversation. James stopped examining his dagger and looked up at him. Thomas didn’t know what to do with his hands now that James was looking at him so he busied his hands by fluffing his afro. James rolled his eyes visibly- disapprovingly- and Thomas wanted to hide from James’ judgemental eyes.

This was not how meeting someone you liked was supposed to go.

“H- How was your day?” Thomas asked, hoping his unintended arrogance hid the stammer. If James heard the uncertainty in his voice, he didn’t mock Thomas for it.

“I wasn’t hired to make small talk, Mr Jefferson,” James responded, his words clipped. “I’m here to protect you and ensure your safety. Now, may I remind you that we’re leaving in 10 minutes.”

“Of course,” Thomas nodded and backed away into the bathroom.

Thomas didn’t normally praise himself, but he _was_ a model. He knew how to carry himself. He was the epitome of charm and grace.

So why did he become a mess of body language and inarticulate words when he faced James?

Thomas Jefferson could command crowds with a snap of his fingers. How come he couldn’t command the heart of James?

Thomas splashed water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror.

If he was a blabbering mess in front of James, perhaps he could try a different method of chasing him. He _was_ a model. He _was_ good looking. He could just use that to his advantage.

Thomas bolted from the bathroom into the bedroom his luggages were in and locked the door.

“5 minutes, Mr Jefferson!” James called from the main room.

James was wearing simple clothes. He wasn’t even wearing sunglasses to hide his bodyguarding identity. He was typical but also a risk-taker. Thomas could work with that.

Thomas settled for a V-neck tee and trousers, slipping into a pair of relatable Nike shoes instead of his suede shoes.

Thomas emerged the room to find James standing by the door, eyes cast upon his watch. He looked up at Thomas; raised an eyebrow and opened the door for him without another word.

James raised an eyebrow at him. That was vague body language. What the heck did that mean? Was he impressed? Was he unimpressed? Was it obvious that the total amount of his outfit exceeded a thousand dollars? Did he look like he was flaunting his wealth by wearing expensive clothing that mimicked cheap ones?

Thomas hesitated but James was tapping his foot impatiently and Thomas settled for an afternoon of uncertainty as he exited the hotel suite with James close behind.

\------

“Mr Jefferson, how wonderful to see you,” the designers lined up to greet him as he arrived at the secret backstage area in preparation for the fashion show tomorrow.

Thomas’ agent and James were hanging around in the same room while they waited. James seemed… hopeful to see someone else here but there were no one else but them here.

“Mr Jefferson, here are your options,” one of the fashion designers ushered him to a rack of unlabeled purple, ruffled outfits (to prevent biases).

Thomas wanted to laugh. These designers knew he was partial to the colour purple and ruffles on his outfit and so all of them had incorporated these elements into their outfit for him. It would be difficult for him to pick one.

Perhaps this was the time to mend his relationship with James.

“James,” Thomas raised his voice and the bodyguard was next to him immediately. “I need you to choose my outfit for me.”

“All of them are ugly,” James drawled in response.

The designers gasped.

“This man does not understand fashion,” one of them spat.

Thomas simply held a hand up to the designer’s face and the designer shut his trap.

“None of them are practical,” James continued, “I wouldn’t wear any of these on the streets.”

James paused.

“Except this one,” James pointed at one and retreated back to guard the door of the room.

“Alright, I’ll take this one,” Thomas waved his hand at the outfit James pointed out and heard a little squeal of delight from the designer behind him. Thomas scrawled ‘ _Lafayette_ ’ on a piece of masking tape and slapped it on the plastic protection of the outfit before hurrying towards James and his agent waiting for him by the door, eager for lunch.

\------

Thomas had insisted they go to a nice and expensive place for lunch. He could afford it, after all. It wasn’t really a date but in Thomas’ mind he could ignore the agent beside him and focus on James across the table, roses in a vase on the table the only thing separating them.

James seemed uncomfortable in the classy restaurant. When he furrowed his eyebrows trying to read the menu, Thomas’ heart soared at the little crinkles that appeared on James’ forehead. James kept fidgeting, a hand resting on his lap, ready to strike if they were to be attacked.

They had VIP seating and Thomas heard James mumbling to his agent about how “it would be better if we blended in a crowded area instead”. Did he make a mistake bringing James here?

Thomas tried to distract James from his thoughts, clearing his throat.

“What are you thinking of getting?” Thomas asked James.

“I don’t know how to read these French words,” James admitted, gesturing at the menu with a hand. “What are you getting?”

In all honesty, Thomas wasn’t one for high-end dining himself. He simply wanted to impress James, treat him to something nice. It didn’t seem to be working. Maybe he should be more down-to-earth around James.

“I, uh, I like their mac and cheese,” Thomas pointed at the picture in the menu. There. A simple, common dish that everyone knew and enjoyed.

“ _Expensive_ mac and cheese,” James snorted.

James thought he was flaunting his money again.

Thomas didn’t know what to do. Nothing was working around James. What did he have to do to get James to like him?

\-----

Thomas’ agent had successfully arranged a meet-and-greet with his fans but since it was announced so recently, Thomas was informed that most people would probably arrive late.

That was alright with Thomas; it gave him more alone time with James.

“Tell me more about yourself,” Thomas probed, tapping his sharpie on the table while he waited, James standing behind him. James was tensed, ready to strike at any moment, and didn’t seem to appreciate Thomas’ efforts at small talk.

“I told you, Mr Jefferson. I’m here to protect, not to chat,” James told him again, his voice as sharp as ever.

“Alright, James,” Thomas smiled, “Let’s talk about your job. What would you do if someone came in here and tried to shoot me?”

James stiffened.

“Mr Jefferson, we do not joke about such situations,” James told him curtly.

“Will you throw yourself in front of me?” Thomas continued, ignoring James, “Will you shoot the assassinator?”

“Mr Jefferson,” James repeated with more insistence in his voice.

“What if there was a long line of fans? Would you save me or would you save the fans? There are many lives at stake here,” Thomas raised a questioning eyebrow.

James slammed a sudden hand on the table, making Thomas jump. James took a deep breath and calmed himself but Thomas could see the way his clenched fists trembled by his side.

“Mr Jefferson,” James swallowed, forcing his tone to remain neutral despite the trembling undertone of anger. Thomas had crossed a line. “My apologies, but I would appreciate it if you do not raise this issue any longer.”

“Of course,” Thomas replied softly. James nodded at his reassurance but his gaze remained guarded.

Thomas breathed out slowly. James had been composed with a mostly unchanging expression the entire day. Seeing James explode wasn’t scary, it was… _hot_.

“Could I have an autograph?” Thomas grabbed a poster from the pile he was supposed to sign for the fans and offered that and the sharpie to James. “For telling me when I crossed a line?”

“No,” James replied, short and sweet.

“Well, would you like my autograph?” Thomas smiled, still attempting to converse, still attempting to make up for his behaviour around James.

“No,” James repeated, then added after a pause, “there’s only one model I want an autograph from.”

“Who is it? I could get it for you,” Thomas quickly offered. Maybe with his connections, he could finally get on the right side of James.

“You? I doubt so,” James snorted, “as if Lafayette would be friends with someone like you.”

Thomas blinked.

“Lafayette?” Thomas repeated, unsure if he had heard James accurately.

“Way out of your league, isn’t he?” James smiled. “Now you know you’re not as great as you seem to think you are, Mr Jefferson.”

“But I’m L-” Thomas tried to say, only to be interrupted by James.

“Mr Jefferson, from the moment I met you, you have been patronising me all day. I know I’m just a bodyguard but you have constantly distracted me from my job or made my job harder. You’re not a great person, you’re _not_ a great model and you’re **not** Lafayette!” James’ voice raised into a shrill.

Thomas swallowed.

“So you can stop acting all high and mighty and learn to respect your fellow human beings a little more,” James snapped, grabbing the poster from Thomas’ hands, “and maybe one day you will actually be good enough to have your name written on the poster because I don’t see ‘Thomas Jefferson’ anywhere on this poster.”

Thomas took the poster James thrust back at him. He stared down at the bright yellow ‘Featured models: LAFAYETTE’ blazed across the black background.

James stepped back and took a deep breath.

“I’ll… I’ll guard from outside,” James said and went out the back door.

Thomas blinked away the forming tears in his eyes and put on a wide smile as his first fans came streaming in through the front doors.

_”Lafayette, I love you!”_

_“Marry me, Lafayette!”_

_“Have my babies, Lafayette!”_

\------

Thomas was silent as he was escorted backstage. James tagged along sullenly, neither man speaking to each other.

James must still be angry with him. Thomas never meant to patronise him, or seem arrogant, or flaunt his money. He just didn’t know how to act around James because James was so… so cold and firm and sure of what he was doing. Maybe he had chased James the wrong way, but Thomas was upset his actions made James refuse to even be friends with him.

James was being all professional, pushing through if people came too near, ushering Thomas through the crowd and into his dressing room.

“Lafayette,” greeted the makeup artist, and Thomas forced a smile, “what an honour to be able to work with you! Look at you; exquisite! I don’t even have to do anything!”

Thomas’ false laughter felt as cold as his heart was after James’ lash out.

Thomas allowed the makeup artist to pull his hair back into Lafayette’s signature ponytail and pull on his make-up for him, the makeup artist assisted him into the outfit James had chosen for him. He had to stop thinking of James and his private life now. He was about to catwalk and he had to get himself into the modelling mindset.

James looked up from his phone as Thomas- Lafayette- opened the door of the dressing room.

“Lafayette,” James breathed, almost dropping his phone, glancing into the dressing room, “... How… where is Mr Jefferson? Isn’t he supposed to wear that outfit?”

“Ah, Mr Jefferson was reassigned another outfit,” Thomas smoothly lied.

“Of course, only the best for Lafayette,” James gestured at him, “You look amazing, sir. I’m a huge fan.”

“Thank you, it is always nice to meet one of my fans,” Thomas nodded.

James reached for the hidden dagger strapped around his ankle and as he lifted his jeans, Thomas saw that it wasn’t a dagger but a hidden magazine with his face on the cover.

“Can I have your autograph? I’m so sorry for bothering you, you must be a busy person-”

“Oh course, but I can do better than an autograph,” Thomas smiled.

Where was he getting all this confidence in front of James from? It must be the model mindset.

“What do you m-” James began to ask, cut off as Thomas kissed him on the lips.

“Mr Jefferson, you’re on in three minutes,” called a passing stage assistant.

Thomas pulled away, staring at a gaping James. He smiled weakly.

“I’ll see you later?” Thomas said.

“Wait, what? You’re J-” James began but Thomas disappeared into the bustling crowd of models.

\-----

The moment he left the stage, James was waiting for him backstage, his arms crossed.

“We have to talk,” James told him simply and Thomas followed him back to his dressing room.

James locked the door behind them and turned to Thomas, widening his eyes as Thomas pulled his hairband off and shook his hair out.

“Lafayette’s my stage name,” Thomas whispered.

“I don’t understand,” James, stoic and stern, seemed about to cry. “Lafayette was always so down-to-earth and cared for his fans and the less privileged. Lafayette’s so warm and friendly and perfect. You’re so… arrogant and mean and rude. Was Lafayette a lie?”

“No, nonononono,” Thomas pleaded, taking a step towards James, “I really do care. I’m really friendly and… did you say perfect?”

James only sniffled in response, looking away.

“Everything Lafayette does, I do it from the bottom of my heart,” Thomas raised a hand and swore, then dropped his hand almost helplessly, “But with you, I didn’t know how to approach you. From the moment we met, I was starstruck by _you_. I didn’t know how to act. I tried to impress you but you weren’t impressed. I tried to chat you up but you weren’t interested. I didn’t know what to do. I never meant to be rude or mean or arrogant. I… I just really like you and I wanted you to like me too.”

Thomas sighed, turning to face the mirror, picking up a makeup removal wipe.

“I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same way. I have been nothing but an asshole to you, after all,” Thomas admitted with a harsh laugh at himself. “You didn’t even recognise me when I wasn’t wearing the ponytail, so you don’t really like _me_ , just the Lafayette you see in the news. I completely understand.”

“I did,” James swallowed, “I thought you looked just like Lafayette, then I decided I was too eager to meet the real Lafayette that I let any model become Lafayette. I felt like I was betraying my crush on Lafayette by projecting him onto another model. That’s why I was mean too; I didn’t want to attach myself to someone that looked like Lafayette just because he looked like Lafayette. I didn’t mean half the things I said to you in the afternoon.”

“Half the things?” Thomas turned to him with a small smile. “So which half were you truthful about?”

“When I said you were way out of Lafayette’s league… more like I’m way out of Lafayette’s league,” James laughed, shaking his head. “I was Lafayette’s bodyguard the whole time, but I couldn’t even get an autograph.”

“Hey,” Thomas took his hand, “I said it before; I can do better than an autograph.”

“Mr Jefferson-”

“Thomas.”

“Thomas,” James repeated and Thomas loved the way James rumbled his name in his smooth, deep voice. James smiled, “are you going to kiss me?”

“For the rest of your life,” Thomas whispered, pulling James closer.

“Woah, let’s not take things too quickly,” James warned.

“I’ll kiss you one day at a time,” Thomas remedied, and James was pleased with that answer, leaning forward to meet Thomas on the lips.

They would take things one day at a time. International long distance relationships were hard to establish, but Thomas would treasure every day he had with James.

Starting with today.

THE END?

**Author's Note:**

> I always hate my endings. Leave a comment to validate this story's existence?


End file.
